The Fight (Republished)

Chapter 5: Admission

My husband always enjoyed writing things. Whether he was writing a best-seller, short story, or logging in his diary for our kids to one day read, he never stopped doing it. From what I could tell, he wrote so that he could escape the fears and pains of this world that he didn't want to deal with, or couldn't; it seemed to allow him inner peace.

Now it's my turn to embark on a writing adventure of my own now that he is in the hospital with bowel cancer. It was as if we swapped positions from when he supported me through my battle just before we got married. When I was in the hospital, it felt like my world was crashing down on me again because I had been there so many times before. I pushed my husband - boyfriend at the time - away for many reasons and being on lots of pain meds for the duration of my battle probably didn't help. I wanted him to be there, but I enjoyed my space as well. Thinking back on it now, I had too much space. I was locked up in a room by myself and still I pushed the man who loved me away. Sure, we patched things up, got married and had kids, but I wonder what would have happened to me if I hadn't had him in my life. I wonder what would have happened if he had not been as loving as he was. His parents were proud I'm sure, raising such a good man like him.

I'm not entirely sure how my husband does this, or how it works for him, but I'm trying my best to release some tension from my life by writing. He must channel all his pain and fear into the words and have them released from his mind and body. That's the only way I imagine it happening and being effective.

Cancer has made my life a living hell at times... having my husband in the hospital reminds me of that. Our children are so young... I don't know how to explain any of this to them. My husband had to take care of an infant when I was in the hospital, not three children. I don't know how to explain cancer to my children without going back to when I was young and first diagnosed. They probably won't understand the severity of it and just think that their daddy is sick and will take a spoonful of medicine to feel better. They ask constantly when he'll be home... I tell them soon, but I honestly don't know how soon is soon. Perception of time is different for us all, but for kids ranging from two to eleven, they're too innocent to know the harsh reality of life.

Every night as I lie in bed without my husband, I cry myself to sleep. I hold his pillow in my arms with my heating bag in the middle, trying to simulate him there with me. It helps me get to sleep, but then I have nightmares and I'm constantly woken up half a dozen times before the sun is rising for a new day. If I'm lucky enough to wake up without having nightmares, I'm instantly reminded of how I slept alone by the lack of heat in the bed in the morning. I miss him so much. He says I'm strong, but I think the word he's looking for is stubborn. He's the strong one in the family, not me.